


A Pint

by andromedaflynn



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedaflynn/pseuds/andromedaflynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during and after season 13, episode 6. OC is a fairly new addition to the Top Gear production team, but will a misunderstanding ruin her cherished friendship with James, or will it help in ways she never would have dreamed possible?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pint

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: Obviously this is a fictional piece. Reposting it from tumblr.

“Viv, you’ve got to see this” I heard the guffawing tone of Jeremy Clarkson call towards me. Rolling my eyes, I ignored the interruption and continued my conversation with Owen, the director, making sure we would have enough to work with when we got back to the studio.

“Vivian!” the voice called once more, this time closer and sounding rather more irritated.

With a sigh I looked to Owen, who was attempting to contain his amusement rather poorly. “I’m not going to get any peace until he gets what he wants, am I?” I ask my now chuckling companion who only shakes his head in response.

“Vivian Hayes would you get that pretty ass of yours over here already?” Jeremy whined loudly. Unable to suppress my laughter I turned with a dramatic sigh.

“What?”

“No, seriously, you have to see this” he replied, ushering me towards where he and Richard stood in the middle of the car park where we were shooting. 

Grudgingly walking forwards I couldn’t help but smile slightly. It had been almost exactly six months since I had started my new job as co-executive producer at Top Gear, and I was loving every second of it. Don’t get me wrong, it was tiring, demanding, both physically and intellectually, and, on more than one occasion, gave me reason to question how no one had killed the presenters out of pure rage, but at the end of the day, damn was it rewarding.

“What is it?” I asked the beaming duo.

“No, really, you have to see it” Richard added, nearly bouncing on the spot in excitement.

“Just tell me” I sighed, rather wanting to get the shoot done with as I still had a mountain of paper work waiting for me back at the hotel.

“She decorated his helmet” Jeremy all but giggled in response.

“Wait, what?” I asked, confusion making it’s way to my brow and seemingly settling there.

“You know, model girl, what’s her name, she decorated James’ helmet! I has glitter and a flower and everything!” Richard cheered.

“Madison?” Trust them not to remember her name, I thought with a grin.

“That’s the one, come on, you have to see it!” Jeremy called, grabbing me by the arm and practically dragging me towards the ridiculous Citroen with glee.

Pushing me towards Madison’s window, I leant down with a friendly grin towards the woman. She drove me utterly nuts, but she was perfect for what we wanted, and I knew James’ logical mind had been driving her as mad as she’d been driving us, so really, it was all fair. “Hello,” I smiled, leaning on the open windowsill as I looked to James, my smile unshakeable. “I hear you have a particularly nice helmet to show me.”

“Oh hell” he groaned, looking behind me to the two idiots who were cracking themselves laughing.

“It’s gorgeous!” Madison piped up cheerfully, causing me to throw her an encouraging smile.

“Come on, James” I begged slightly, now wanting nothing more than to see this mysterious helmet on my currently embarrassed colleague. When I saw I was getting nowhere I decided to up the ante, “Alright, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll shout you a pint if you put it on, two if you let me get a picture.”

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain why or how, but the next thing I knew a begrudging James May was reaching into the back to get the most ridiculous looking helmet I had ever seen. Putting all my strength into not laughing, and trust me, it took a lot of strength, I grinned back at him, unable to believe my eyes as he put it on with a sigh.

“Get on with it then” he grumbled, tilting his head slightly so I could see the red flower along with the line of glitter that sat glued onto the white plastic.

Taking my time capturing the picture, I grinned at him from behind my phone, causing him to throw me a look of faux irritation in return. The picture was perfect, a wonderful mix of annoyance, disbelief and ridiculousness, and it was this mix that finally did it for me. Unable to control myself I burst into laughter, doubled over, I balanced myself precariously on the gravel. After what must have been minutes of unruly laughter, I finally gathered myself enough to stand up. Handing a now rather unamused James a €10 note I shook my head in disbelief. 

“Thank you for your business” I laughed, walking back to Owen to get back to work.

Days passed and we were back to our usual business in the studio, which is to say all those in production were frantically rushing around while the presenters and film crew sat back waiting for us to calm ourselves enough to give them their next project. Having left particularly late the night before hand and arriving at a ridiculously early hour this morning, I was on my last thread, and while most people seemed to have the common sense to avoid me unless necessary, it would seem this particular piece of logic had not reached the minds of Richard Hammond and Jeremy Clarkson.

Perching themselves on either side of me as I attempted to focus on the documents in front of me, they began to speak without anything near a welcome.

“So, what do you reckon it is?” Jeremy began, sipping his coffee all too loudly, in my opinion.

Ignoring him I pushed my glasses up my nose and brought my attention back to the hideous business of reconciling the basics of the last trip.

“Gotta be something to do with Spain” Richard shrugged, causing the table to move slightly, which, in turn, caused me to swat them off my table, hoping they wouldn’t break it. Unfazed by his sudden standing position, Richard continued. “I mean, he hasn’t been himself since the last night there.”

“No, I agree, he’s been particularly anti-social, well, more so than usual” Jeremy nodded in agreement, causing my curiosity to get the better of me. They had to be talking about James, after all, even I had noticed his suddenly withdrawn behaviour. He hadn’t entered my office with interesting, albeit random, topics for conversation at all, and if the boys had noticed something was wrong, it had to be very damn wrong.

Pushing the papers away along with my glasses, I turned to the boys in exasperation. “Have either of you thought to, I don’t know, ask him what’s wrong?”

“He’s not exactly going to tell us, is he?” Richard asked, returning my look of exasperation. “He’s not exactly Mr let-me-tell-you-all-my-feelings-and-emotions.”

Darn it, he had a point.

“Maybe if you showed you gave a damn he would at least feel better?” I tried, knowing full well it would neither happen nor help. The conversation seemed to go in circles for a few minutes, all of us agreeing something was definitely up, and yet none of knowing what or what to do about it.

The day seemed to drag out particularly long after that. On top of the mountain of work I had to do, I found myself constantly drifting into my own thoughts, wondering just what to do about James. Deciding I wasn’t getting far on any topic I determined at least one thing would help, coffee. Forcing myself towards the small kitchen, I lost myself in my thoughts, finally returning to the most pressing of subjects, who on earth we could book as our Star in a Reasonably Priced Car for one of the upcoming episodes.

So lost, was I that I can to a shuddering stop as I walked smack bang into the cause of another worry of mine. “James!” I spoke in surprise. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Mmm,” he grunted in response, moving around me and continuing on in silence. Watching his retreating figure I was overcome with multiple emotions at once, but what seemed to stand out above all was anger. Screw my coffee, I was getting to the bottom of this.

“James May would you bloody stop all this and just tell me what’s going on?” I called in exasperation, following his now much slower pace.

He turned with such a sudden speed that I almost walked into him once more. I would have made a joke about it too, some silly comment to lighten the mood, were it not for the look of sheer anger that seemed to radiate from him, causing me to shrink back into myself. Maybe this was a mistake, hell, this was definitely a mistake.

“What the hell do you care?” he sneered at me. Confusion drowned my senses as I looked at him.

“What do you mean?” I asked gently, “Of course I care.”

“Right, you care that something isn’t right in your perfect little studio” he rolled his eyes.

“Uh, no, I care that something’s wrong with you” I replied, starting to get defensive. That seemed to tone him down, but not necessarily calm him. It was only when he turned to leave once more I realised the mistake in my words.

“James! James there’s nothing wrong- I didn’t mean…” I was lost for words. Running after him, I grabbed his arm, turning him to look at me. “Wait, have I done something?” I asked, suddenly thinking back to our last conversation with dread. Oh God, I shouldn’t have laughed so hard at the helmet, I shouldn’t have laughed at all. 

“Of course not, I just came to realise something” James sighed, looking down.

“I take it it wasn’t something along the ‘sunsets are beautiful’ line of thought?” I tried, hoping to see a sliver of a smile, and boy was I rewarded.

“Not quite” he agreed, the fragment of a smile not quite leaving his lips.

I was getting somewhere, heaven knows where, but I was getting somewhere. I was ready to pray to all the Gods, none of which I believed in, to help me not stuff this up.

“Do you want to grab a drink? Talk about it?” I offered carefully, but his smile diminished instantly as he pulled his arm from my grip.

“What, are you going to give me a fiver and bugger off again?” he asked harshly.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, starting to see where this was going. “Is that what this is about? Me giving you €10 for that picture? I’ll delete it if that’s what this is!”

“It’s not the damn picture.”

“Then what is it James, because seriously, I am at a loss right now!” I yelled into the otherwise deserted hallway

“I thought you were going to have a pint with me, that’s generally what it means to buy someone a pint” he spoke, a mix of anger and dismay.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me at his words. “James, why would you think that? I have never had a pint with any of you, that’s your thing. You boys go off to the pub, have a pint together, I stay here and work my ass off!” I was beginning to get more than a tad annoyed by now.

“That’s just it, isn’t it? That’s all it’ll ever be, a laugh here and there, asking how the other’s weekends were, nothing more.”

Realisation became to dawn on me, or perhaps it was hope. He couldn’t mean, no, surely not. Did he want something more than that? No. Just because I had some silly schoolgirl crush on him didn’t mean he felt anything like that for me. We were friends, maybe not even that. We were coworkers, and I was not about to screw that up by asking if he wanted more than that. But then, a part of my mind pointed out, maybe I didn’t have to.

“Would you like to get a pint, with me?” I clarified, looking at the floor as insecurity flooded me.

The silence was deafening. I shouldn’t have even asked. But it was the best way I could think of. I wasn’t asking if he wanted more, if he wanted me, just a pint. 

“You really think this is about a pint?” he asked quietly. I looked up slowly, taking in every detail as if hoping to get some clue as to what he meant, but he just stood there, seeming to study me in such detail I couldn’t help but blush under the attention.

“Hey, I’ve been trying to figure out what this is a-” my words drew to a close as he came closer, timidly at first before seeming to make his mind up about something. And suddenly, blissfully, his lips were pressed against mine in a beautiful mix of tenderness and passion. I could have swooned right there and then, were it not for the small, suddenly beloved, part of my mind reminding me to kiss him back. Carefully moving my hands to his shoulders I pulled him ever so gently towards me.

Breaking away for air we shared a smile as he ran his thumb ever so gently down my cheek. I wasn’t ready to let go of him entirely though, not when there was a chance of losing this moment to a void of mistakes and regret. But he didn’t seem to regret it. My thoughts were confirmed as he spoke ever so gently, “Let’s go have that pint.”


End file.
